THE ZORK CHRONICLES Delve into the challenge and adventure of the world of ZORK with the fantastic imagination of GEORGE ALEC EFFINGER "We (science fiction writers) stand in awe of a writer so young, so strong, so good…." Harlan Ellison "Wry, inventive, nearly hallucinatory…" Publishers Weekly "Great entertainment…" Fantasy Review Other Avon Books in the INFOCOMTM Series ENCHANTER® by Robin W. Bailey PLANETFALL® by Arthur Byron Cover WISHBRINGER® by Craig Shaw Gardner STATIONFALLTM by Arthur Byron Cover Avon Books are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotions, premiums, fund raising or educational use. Special books, or book excerpts, can also be created to fit specific needs. For details write or telephone the office of the Director of Special Markets, Avon Books, Dept. FP, 105 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016, 212-481-5653. George Alec Effinger THE ZORK® CHRONICLES A Byron Preiss Book AN INFOCOMTM BOOK AVON BOOKS NEW YORK Zork: The novel is an original publication of Avon Books. This work has never before appeared in book form. This work is a novel. Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. Special thanks to Marc Blank, Dave Lebling, Richard Curtis, Rob Sears, John Douglas, David Keller, and Alice Alfonsi. AVON BOOKS A division of The Hearst Corporation 105 Madison Avenue New York, New York 10016 Copyright © 1990 by Byron Preiss Visual Publications, Inc. Cover painting copyright © 1990 by Byron Preiss Visual Publications, Inc. Published by arrangement with Byron Preiss Visual Publications, Inc. ZORK software copyright © 1980 by Infocom, Inc. ZORK and the INFOCOM logo are trademarks of Infocom, Inc. Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 89-92497 ISBN: 0-380-75388-X Cover and book design by Alex Jay/Studio J. Cover painting by Walter Velez Edited by David M. Harris All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Byron Preiss Visual Publications, Inc., 24 West 25th Street, New York, New York 10010. First Avon Books Printing: July 1990 AVON TRADEMARK REG. U.S. PAT. OFF. AND IN OTHER COUNTRIES, MARCA REGISTRADA, HECHO EN U.S.A. Printed in the U.S.A. To Rob Sears of Infocom, and Brett Sperry, Mike Legg, and the rest of the gang at Westwood Associates, who have made my own Infocom game, Circuit's Edge, a reality. And to David M. Harris, the editor whom I tormented with this manuscript. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I'd like to mention that I used two reference books extensively in creating the characters as well as devising the progression of their adventures. The first of these books is The Hero, by Lord Raglan, published by New American Library in March, 1979. This is a classic study of the common elements and themes that occur in the "biographies" of heroic characters from myth and fiction. The second book is The Hero with a Thousand Faces, by Joseph Campbell, published by Princeton University Press in 1968, which attempts to find a single, coherent pattern among the many heroic quest myths from around the world. I've always found such literary analysis and synthesis fascinating, and I've always wanted to use these two references as the basis of a fantasy of my own. I'll be the first to admit that Zork is not on the same level as, say, the Arthurian cycle; but if anyone becomes interested in writing a long, critical study of this work, I can often wax eloquent upon the subject over a free lunch. CONTENTS Prologue: Die Göttercocktailpartei Chapter One: We Can't All Be Heroes Chapter Two: The Importance of Being Brave Chapter Three: A Traveling Companion Chapter Four: The Myth of Wickedness Chapter Five: Hell's Twice the Labor Chapter Six: A Dead Man's Embers Chapter Seven: Waiting for Santa Chapter Eight: Glarbo Speaks! Chapter Nine: Not Doing Nothing Chapter Ten: A Better Class of Enemy Chapter Eleven: The Formula for Success Chapter Twelve: A Proof of Genius Chapter Thirteen: Inspiration, Inc. Chapter Fourteen: Good Grounds and Bad Chapter Fifteen: Fathers and Sons Epilogue: Die Göttercocktailpartei II The composite hero of the monomyth is a personage of exceptional gifts. Frequently he is honored by his society, frequently he is unrecognized or disdained. He and/or the world in which he finds himself suffers from a symbolical deficiency. In fairy tales this may be as slight as the lack of a certain golden ring, whereas in apocalyptic vision the physical and spiritual life of the whole earth can be represented as fallen, or on the point of falling, into ruin. — Joseph Campbell The Hero with a Thousand Faces > Kill troll with sword. > You can't see any sword here! — Message in Zork I PROLOGUE Die Göttercocktailpartei There were supposed to be some eager acolytes meeting Glorian and taking him right to the hotel; but of course the acolytes never showed up, and Glorian had to find his way on his own through one of the hugest stations in the supernatural world. He trundled his two heavy suitcases and felt ever more as if he should have just skipped the entire weekend. He could have stayed home and dabbled at the human pursuits he found so rewarding. He could have worked some more on his book, for instance: A Guardian Spirit Speaks to Troubled Teens. The fact that the awards banquet was in the Valhalla Hilton didn't improve his mood. He hated having to come to Valhalla for these stupid banquets. He preferred the alternating years when they were held in the Elysian Fields. At least the food was a lot better. Valhalla was cold and gray and blustery no matter what time of year you came, but for some reason the Campbell Awards banquet committee always picked the grimmest weekend of the year. It was even grimmer if, like Glorian, you were one of the anxious award nominees. Finally, Glorian got his luggage up to the Registration Desk of the Valhalla Hilton. The desk clerk looked down at him as if Glorian had stumbled into the posh establishment expecting to find a soup kitchen. "Yes?" said the desk clerk. There was a world of "No" packed into that single syllable. "Glorian, party of one. I confirmed my reservation three months ago." The desk clerk riffled briefly through a plastic box of index cards, then punched a couple of keys on a computer keyboard. He looked up at Glorian with a broad smile of absolute satisfaction. "Sorry, sir," he said, beaming, "nothing here at all under that name." "Having some trouble, young man?" came a deep, booming voice from behind Glorian's left shoulder. He turned around and was shocked to see one of the supernatural world's greatest and most influential members, Shiva the Destroyer. "Well, actually," said Glorian, a little abashed in the great being's presence, "they seem to have lost all record of my reservation." Shiva gave a loud hmmph that wobbled the stone columns of the Valhalla Hilton. "Happens to me all the time, too. I think they get some kind of perverse pleasure out of it. These desk clerk types have no idea of the kind of afterlife that could be waiting for them." He glowered at the frightened desk clerk for several meaningful seconds. "Mr. Destroyer," said the desk clerk in a small, strangled voice, "I seem to have cleared up the problem just this very moment." He produced a card, had Glorian sign it, and punched a button that caused a computer printer to spit out a page of information no guest ever read. "Thank you, sir," said Glorian to Shiva. The destroyer laughed, causing another frightening rumble in the huge lobby. "I was a young supernatural being myself once. I remember what it was like. You're Glorian, aren't you? One of this year's Campbell Award nominees?" Glorian's eyes opened even wider. He was amazed that such a personage as Shiva the Destroyer would recognize him. "Yes, sir," he said. "Well, good luck in the voting, son. But remember what they always say: It's an honor just to be nominated." "You bet," said Glorian. Glorian had picked up his key and luggage and was heading off toward a bank of elevators, when Shiva's gruff voice stopped him. "You know, quite a number of influential people have their eyes on you. This weekend could be the beginning of something very important for you, whether or not you win the Campbell." Glorian carried his bags up to his room, wondering what Shiva had meant by that. He assumed it would all be made clear eventually, because that was the way things tended to work out with The Powers That Be. The room itself was okay, in a minimal way, although certainly not worth what Glorian was paying for it. The entire wall opposite the king-size bed was a window, but when Glorian pulled back the drapes, there was only a kind of opaque, moiling murk beyond the glass, and a few tiny words in the bottom right-hand corner: This space intentionally left blank. Glorian shuddered and closed the drapes again. Except for the bed, there was only a bureau, a chair, a television, and a closet. On the door to the closet was a framed sign that told him what to do in an emergency. "In case of fire," the occupant was reassured, "do not panic. After all, you may be invulnerable. If after several minutes you discover that you are in fact beginning to burn, you may exercise any of several options.